


Certainty.

by lesbioung



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/F, random piece of nothing like always
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 21:30:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13420032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbioung/pseuds/lesbioung
Summary: Anya and Tara have a moment to just talk while the rest of the gang dance.





	Certainty.

Silent but always observant, that night was not an exception. Bright blue eyes watched a readhead dancing with her friends, a big happy smile on her lips while arms moved not so synchronized with her legs. It was cute. Willow had always been cute in Tara’s eyes. Sexy too, yes. Because the way she was swinging her hips side to side made Tara hold her breath in for a second.

“You wanna dance with them”.

The thump from returning to reality so brutally was hard. The witch almost got dizzy. But when she heard Anya’s voice again, she felt grounded once more.

“Not them, but with Willow. It is clear by the way you’re staring at her like she’s not wearing any clothing”.

Red. Bright flushing red. She could feel it spreading down her neck and up her face, burning her ears. Would there be even a single day when she would not blush while talking to Anya?

“Mm– It’s  **t-that**  clear?”

“Yes”, Anya simply responded, observing Tara under the light of that familiar place like The Bronze was to them by now. She tilted her head, like she was really analyzing the other woman. “There is no shame in that. I myself do it all the time. Well, not with Willow, of course”.

_I’m relieved._

Tara was not ashamed for her thoughts or even for being caught while thinking about Willow and  _the sway of her hops_ , but, actually, by how blunt the ex demon could be. She envied that. Sometimes she can’t even speak at all, so being able to be so clear and sincere like Anya, well, that would be nice.

“Why don’t you go, then?”

“I’m not a good dancer”, a little smile on the corner of the witch’s lips as her right shoulder moved up quite gently.

“Neither are they”, her words came out refreshing after taking a sip of her drink. Tara shouldn’t have noticed her wet glistening lips. But she did. “Humans move like that just because it’s enjoyable, not because they’re professional dancers. Which is quite obvious”.

Tara thought Anya sounded much like an anthropologist. In the end, she could be considered one, couldn’t she? Just think about it… Living for so long as Anya herself has lived, she must know a lot about everything and anything. Tara felt something inside her. Curiosity, it must be. A fluttering new feeling of wanting to find out more. So she was glad Anya kept on talking to her, even with a not so chatty Tara beside her. She enjoyed listening more than talking at that point. Anya’s thoughts were interesting, anyway.

“You know what I  **do** get now that I’m a mortal again?”, she glanced at Tara, an index finger running smoothly along the plastic humid cup. When she received the attention she wanted from the pair of blue eyes, she continued, “Birthdays. –It’s pretty pointless when you can’t even know for sure what lifetime you’re living”.

“–It sounds right”

“Yes”, a nod and she straightened her spine.

“But… You  _understand_ it now?”, Tara questioned, still very curious too keep on listening to that woman’s point of view.

“I do. It’s a ritual”, Tara tilted her head even more attentive now, “You need this to feel better about an upcoming inevitable death. So you celebrate another year alive, even though inside, you’re incredibly sad because it’s actually one year less to live. It’s superficial but makes you happy to be treated special for a day”.

_It is certainly not a happy way to go through life._  Tara felt slightly uncomfortable for a second.  _From where did she get this?_

“…I don’t think so”, the witch shook her head as her eyes dropped to her hands. A deep breath and she was renewed to look at Anya again, “It’s not the b-best way to live thinking like that. Death is—”, there was a brief moment of silence as Tara searched for words. Anya waited patiently. “Death is a certainty. Life isn’t.”

The other propped her elbows on the table, eyebrows nearly touching in confusion. Almost in fascination, also. “How so?”

“I-I mean—”, she smiled for a second before her features became serious again, thinking, “Why should we— we worry so much about something that we can not change? …Do not think like that.”, the last words coming out almost like a whisper, “I— Mm… I consider birthdays as a way to be grateful and to remember that I was strong for another whole year, that I  _did_ it. And t-to remember that…”, her gaze moved to the dance floor again briefly, just to fall on Anya once more, “That we have things to hope and to be thankful for”.

Anya smiled. Tapped her fingers against the wood table and nodded. “A little bit corny and foolish, but– I like it. —Now I do want a birthday party as well”.

A giggle. Corny foolish giggle one could say. Tara almost felt compelled to mention the quick change of thought, but Anya’s smile was enough for her to see and feel the sincerity. She meant it and that made the witch grateful.

But then she stopped, eyes glued on Anya’s eyebrows while she drank her soda.  

“You’ve… had a birthday party before, right?”, Tara asked with a hint of disbelief in her voice - a disbelief in her own thoughts.  _No way._

“You’re being silly again. Yes, I had.”

Again, Tara was relieved.

“Well, not exactly similar to the ones you have nowadays. But it certainly could be called a celebration”.


End file.
